#lemme tighten my belt in peace

[goingfor85]

i accidentally cut my finger this morning while trying to poke a new hole in my belt, and it’s so ironic bc im like “ouchy😢” but at the same time im literally constantly intentionally inflicting harm upon myself

[kiridarling]

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.

→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.

→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.

→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.

"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."

→ Oh.

→  Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.

→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.

"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”

→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off,  stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.

→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?

"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"

→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.

→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.

→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.

“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

→ 100% your idea

→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.

→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.

→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.

→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."

→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.

→ Katsuki does not.

→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.

"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"

→ You shake your head.

"No? Fuck."

→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.

→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.

→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.

"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"

→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.

→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.

“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”

→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.

→ That was...something.

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?

“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.

→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.

→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.

→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.

→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.

→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.

"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"

→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.

→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.

"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"

→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.

"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."

→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.

→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.

"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."

[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

breathing.

© @supervalcsi

OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @supervalcsi: Dear Aurora, my love, my sunshine, may I get prompt 12 from angst list with Bishop?? Thank you so much my friend! I love you!!! 💕💕💕💕

❝ prompt: “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”.

❝ words: about 1.3k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

“Didn't know where else to go”.

His voice sounds lower than normal, as if he is on the verge of tears but fighting against it. You don't ask him how he knows your address, giving him enough space to come inside your house. Bishop doesn't doubt then, guiding his steps through the door to let you close it behind your back as you turn around to face him.

Sometimes he goes to the bar you work in, outside of Santo Padre, in one of the lost roads to nowhere. The two of you spend the night talking about anything concrete, interchanging words. And you can assure that between both there's some kind of connection since you met.

But tonight, he looks too different than usual. The black bags under his eyes mean that he hasn't had much sleep the last few days. The grown beard melting with his well-groomed mustache let you know that he hasn't taken care of himself lately. Just surviving like a lost soul, in pain for something you don't know. Traveling your eyes to his hands, you quickly notice his reddened knuckles a little bit raw.

Licking your bottom lip, hesitating, you take the first step ahead to taste the waters, invading his personal space. Knowing that Bishop is not going to take one back, you shorten till the minimal distance among your bodies to wrap him with your arms. Trying to comfort him, you hug him as much tightly as you can, feeling the man reciprocating the gesture; clinging himself to you as if you were the anchor that helps him to stay afloat.

Only then, he breaks into pieces, letting the tears run down his cheeks as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Landing one of your hands on the back of his head, you caress gently his hair, wanting to make him feel better. You're not going to ask if he doesn't want to talk. The interrogatories aren't part of your personality. You're the one who usually listens in silence, and maybe offers some kind of advice. But it's not what Bishop needs, not tonight.

Much to your regret, you pull yourself away slowly, without doing any sharp move. Sliding your fingers down by his shoulders to the folds of the black kutte, you help him to take it off so you can hang it on a chair in the living room. He's following you like a lost puppy, keeping his head bowed. Doing the same with the black hoodie, after unzipping it, you hold his hand to guide him through the hallway towards your room.

The place is submerged under the gloom, only illuminated by some streetlights outside, but enough to see the tears on his face. After cleaning them with your fingers, while he takes off his boots and undoes the belt to throw it somewhere, you give him some space to undress and place his jeans and his shirt on the chair next to the desk.

Once lying down on your bed, you welcome him again between your bare and warm arms, aware that he feels a little better by the way his breathing sounds more calmed. Urging Bishop to rest his head on your chest, you can't help but leave a tender kiss on it.

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”.

Your voice is honeyed. A soft whisper transmitting him peace. Whilst his arms are surrounding your body and your left one is around his chest, your right hand caresses slowly his cheek; using your fingertips, barely watching the man close his eyes. Soon, his breathing is inappreciable, taking the same rhythm as yours.

Still half asleep you roll around the mattress, to hide your face from sunbeams, filling up your lungs with the strong manly scent from your unexpected visitor last night. Tightening the grip around you, Bishop sighs more awake than sleep, pressing his lips on your forehead for a kiss that lasts longer than expected. But you don't care. It doesn't bother you. Feels good, after all.

“Should I say sorry or thank you?” His throaty voice slides itself through your ears with sorrow and shame.

“You don't have to be sorry, nor thank me anything”.

The smile curving his lips brushes your forehead softly, slightly jumping your heart for no reason, apparently. Resting your heads over the pillow, without breaking the mess of legs and arms tangled you are, your eyes laid on each other. You don't know what time it is, but he looks more rested than yesterday.

“Two days ago… I lost someone important to me”.

“I'm sorry, Bish”.

“Yeah, me too. But things happen for a reason, isn't it?”

Briefly nodding, you're able to see him smiling again. A sleepy grin disappears after a short second. Closing his eyes again, the man sinks his face into the crook of your neck, holding you closer under his grip to his body. The soft gasp escaping his lips, after taking a breath of your sweet smells, makes you giggle because of the tickles.

But that bubble explodes when your phone rings. Normally, no one calls you before two at noon and it couldn't be this late.

“Don't answer, please…”

“Just lemme check who it is”.

Tossing a hand over your head, palming the nightstand until finding the phone, you place it in front of your head. Unknown number. You don't recognize it. Frowning confused, you poke Bishop's cheek to make him look at it. Seems like he recognizes it by the way he has to roll his eyes. Lying on his back and grabbing it, he slides his thumb over the screen to pick up the call.

“(Y/N)?”

“It's Obispo”.

“Jesus fucking Christ, brother, I'm too fucking old for these games. Been looking for you since yesterday morning, about having a heart attack”.

“Don't be dramatic, Taza… How the hell 'you have (Y/N)'s number? Actually, how the hell 'you know her?” Looking at you, the only thing you do is shrug confused. You haven't heard about this man in your life.

“I know you better than yourself, you should know it already”.

“I'm going to hang up”.

“Hey, hey, wait! You okay?”

“I was fucking okay till you call, enjoy my seat today”.

Not giving the man at the other side of the speaker the chance to respond, Bishop finishes the call, leaving the phone on the nightstand behind him.

“How did you know where I live?” You can't help but ask, showing up your curiosity.

“I went to the bar, hoping you were there. But your boss told me you were free, so I ended up threatening him to earn your address. He didn't want to tell me”.

“Maybe he thought you were a psycho”.

“Or a Mayan”.

“Yeah, that gang of Chicanos is pretty crazy too”.

“I hate that fucking name”.

Hearing Bishop laughing for the first time in a week makes you feel some nice shivers traveling your body, resting a leg over his lap and fitting your body to his.

“I came to you because you always cheer me up. No matter what. And I don't know how you do it, but I don't want you to stop”.

Lying by his side and placing a hand on the back of your thigh, to keep your leg over his, the Mexican slides his free arm under your neck with so much care.

“I like to see you happy, to see you smiling. It isn't something I can avoid”.

“What else you can't avoid?”

“The desire of asking you to stay”.

“I'm going to stay if you want me to stay”.

“What if I ask you to kiss me?”

Leaning towards you, the response doesn't wait. At first, Bishop just presses his lips against yours. A soft cramp that bristles your skin completely. Soon, your lips start to move slowly in sync, tasting each other, cutting off your breathings. It is better than you have fantasized sometimes while talking with him sitting on the bar and sharing old whisky in the small hours. And he feels good too, even if he continues carrying the sorrow because of his recent loss, knowing that he has won you somehow.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @tclaerh @aurelie-celine @spideysimpossiblegirl

[keichanz]

Oscurità, amore mio - I

I have absolutely no goddamn clue just what the hell I’m doing with this AU but i’m having way too much fun to stop.

inspired by a book series i’m reading and it’s hilarious and i just kept thinking “what if” and then well suddenly this ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ sorrynotsorry

A fair warning: This story is not going to have an actual plot. It’s going to be all over the place. The parts/chapters will be random scenes of whatever my brain decides to concoct, although most of them will most likely be Inukag interactions, rating from K all the way to M. They will probably also be very sporadic. There will be violence, blood (nothing hardcore), sex, and other scandalous/nefarious things. If you’d like me to rate each chapter at the beginning so you know what to expect, lemme know. 

Big thanks go out to @sssuperbartola and @sesshsbae for agreeing to be my Italian customs/facts and translator sources lol. A lot of this story will take place in Italy becasue I wanted a change of scenery and they are my Italian queens <3 thanks guys, I appreciate it so much! Irene I know you were looking forward to this, so I hope you enjoy! ^_^

Note: There has been a title change! Previously known as Dalle Ceneri, Oscurità, amore mio means “Darkness, my love” in Italian. 

Read on AO3.

The only reason why he’d noticed her at all was because out of all of the humans packed like vile smelling sardines into this sorry excuse of an establishment, grinding, swapping spit and outright fucking on the dance floor, her thoughts were definitely not normal considering the type of place this was. Because while everyone else was thinking about sex and booze and getting their next fix…

Hers was of the more musical variety detailing a certain violet creature from the 1950’s that had a penchant for eating people.

As soon as the infuriatingly annoying lyrics crashed through his frontal lobe and demanded his admittedly reluctant undivided attention – because the feminine voice in his head was very loud and damned near drowned out every other voice – he’d nearly spit out his drink trying to withhold the abrupt and completely untoward laugh that bubbled up in his throat. Which was very fortunate, because he’d paid six euros for a single glass of whiskey. He’d rather not waste his money spitting it all over the place.

He’d recovered quickly, however, and against his better judgment, he’d honed in on that feminine voice still mentally belting out those annoying lyrics, and as he focused solely on that particular thought trail – or in this case, song – everything else faded into the background in a dull roar that was easily ignored. The lyrics became crisp and clear in his head, as if they were being said directly into his ear, and with his concentration locked onto his target, finding the source was only the simple matter of slackening his hold, for lack of a better term, on the thought and allowing it to more or less drag his gaze back from whence it originated. He likened the unique sensation to riding along the invisible current in the thought’s wake, so to speak, although it would be harder to explain to someone who was not privy to mind reading as he was.

...one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. Sure looks strange to me. Well he came down to earth and he lit in a tree...

And in this case the source just happened to be a black-haired bombshell sitting at the other end of the L shaped bar counter, wearing a skin-tight black leather top and skirt that had certain areas on his body tightening coupled with sexy as hell thigh-high boots. However if he had to choose the most starling thing about her, it wouldn’t be her choice in attire, her questionable taste in music, or even the hint of black lace he could see peeking out just barely from under the waistband that clingy leather skirt.

It would be the fact at how utterly and completely bored she looked. With her legs crossed at the knee and her elbow propped on the counter with her chin resting in her hand, her expression was one of blank indifference as she stared sightlessly at the air in front of her, one of her booted feet swinging idly along to the tune in her head.

It was a one-eyed, one-horned—hm?

There was no glass in front of her, suggesting she hadn’t ordered a drink, or if she had she’d declined a refill and already paid her tab. Curious despite himself, he probed a little deeper, sifting through surface thoughts overlaid with the general impatience of waiting, and that should have alarmed him but as distracted as he was, he failed to notice the annoying lyrics had stopped and a pleased smile had surfaced on full, kissable lips.

Oh, there you are.

Inuyasha balked at the thought and frowned. That was...quite random—

I was wondering when you’d finally show yourself. I’ve been singing that atrocious song for an hour now.  I nearly put myself into a coma.

Or perhaps not so random. What?

Well, I had to get your attention somehow, she thought and it belatedly occurred to him that she was speaking to him. Which meant she was aware of his presence in her mind. Shit. I figured singing the most obnoxious song known to man in a place where the norm would usually consist of sex and alcohol would be like homing beacon. Her smile turned sly. Glad to see I was right.

Inuyasha gaped at her. The little wench had played him.

Fuck. Why the hell did that turn him on. What the fuck.

Quickly regathering his wits about him and turning his head so she didn’t catch him gawking at her – this new development required a sense of caution now – Inuyasha schooled his expression and lifted his glass to his lips.

Well, well. This is certainly a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, I must say. Didn’t expect to find another MR all the way out here in this dingy little pub. He tipped his glass back and slanted a glance at the dark-haired woman. She was smiling and looked downright delighted.

Actually, she said and out of his peripheral he watched her swivel around in her stool, dark eyes peering out over the other patrons and he knew she was looking for him. I’m not a mind reader.

He frowned. Then how—

It’s more like…reading an individual’s emotions rather than thoughts, she interrupted and from the look of concentration on her face, she was trying to pinpoint his location using the emotions she could sense from him. Difficult, but not impossible, as evidenced when he saw her look over in his direction, however her eyes passed over where he sat.

Inuyasha kept a neutral face as he pondered her words, and though it was appealing to give a hint as to who she was speaking with, he found himself wanting to draw this out even longer, reluctant to end the exchange so quickly. He lifted his half-empty glass, stared at the amber liquid, and then out of nowhere realization dawned.

If you’re thinking the word ‘empath,’ she said, most likely picking up on the enlightenment that replaced muddled confusion, then you would be correct.

She sounded pleased and Inuyasha tried very hard to mask the surprise that rode on the coattails of that clarification. Empaths were rare, more so than even mind readers, and Inuyasha considered himself fortunate to have run into one here of all places.

Which most likely meant that she was here for a very specific reason because you didn’t just accidentally run into an empath. That was not how it worked. They were rare for a reason; they did not like to be found, and were experts and concealing their presence. So to have this woman openly admit that they were an empath could mean one of two things.

One, she was heavily protected, or two, she was looking for someone.

A minute later after shamelessly rooting around in her thoughts he knew which one it was, and it was a challenge to keep his initial reaction contained, a mix of bewilderment, suspicion, and delight. It was a strange reaction to be sure, and it didn’t exactly bode well for him, but he didn’t care. The situation had just significantly increased in the benefits factor for him, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him by. And besides…

Inuyasha always liked a challenge.

Intrigued, and not bothering to hide his curious amusement, Inuyasha remained blank faced as her eyes skimmed over him again, no doubt trying to match up the emotions she was sensing to a person’s expressions and movements. So far she wasn’t having any luck and he fought a smirk when he heard an annoyed huff over the dull roar of the pub. What, did she think he was going to make it easy for her?

She suddenly brightened and once again, Inuyasha had to resist the urge to shake his head in amazement. Did she even realize how obvious she was being?

And now you’re wondering why I would out myself like this, she accurately guessed and he had to applaud her. She was very good at what she did which told him she had a lot of experience under her belt. Damn, this just kept getting better.

He wasn’t worried, though. Despite what she was thinking, he wasn’t who she was looking for. He was confident in this because there was one particular reason why he was set apart from other mind readers, a singular advantage he possessed that would become glaringly obvious the second she identified him. It sort of made him disappointed because it would have been a lot more fun if he had been her target.

Well, fun for him, anyway. He couldn’t say the same for her and he lifted the half-empty glass to his lips to hide his grin.

The dark-haired woman laughed and the pleasant sound had his ears involuntarily flicking toward her from beneath his black ballcap. I’d love to tell you, she began and Inuyasha sensed a but. But I think that’s the kind of conversation that should be spoken face to face, don’t you think?

Hah. Nailed it.

So, why don’t you tell me who you are, and we can have a nice long heart to heart outside where we’ll have some…peace and quiet. Whaddaya say? What she did next cemented his idle suspicions that she knew he was watching her despite not knowing where he was; she swung around in her seat and thrust out her chest, fingertips drawing a tantalizing path over her collarbones, across her breasts, then further down her trim figure over a flat, toned stomach.

He couldn’t help it; momentarily forgetting himself he growled but then quickly whipped his head around before she could catch his very appreciative gaze. Damn, he had to hand it to her; she knew exactly what she was doing and if he wasn’t careful he was going to give himself away before he was ready. It was bad enough that she could probably feel his lust for her, and a quick glimpse into her mind revealed she had and was feeling quite proud of herself.

Fuck. He had to do something. He had to give himself an advantage again, up the ante somehow because if he didn’t she’d realize who – and what – he was, ending this little game of theirs, and he didn’t want that, at least not yet. But dammit, she was getting closer to finding—

Inuyasha suddenly stopped, and then wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. Duh, you idiot, he scolded himself, rolling his eyes and then in the next instant, when her eyes were averted for a split second, he vanished.

Kagome scanned the seats at the other end of the L shaped bar again, paused, and then slowly backtracked. Her eyes landed on an empty seat that she could have sworn had been occupied not even five seconds earlier. She tried to remember what he looked like, because the tall, muscular figure that came to mind could only belong to a man, and the more she thought about it, the more she could recall who had sat in the now vacant seat. She hadn’t seen his face, but the thick arm muscles and broad back encased in a black t-shirt had definitely warranted her appreciative attention, and coupled with the short, shaggy silver hair, the attraction had been almost instantaneous and just imaging what all that glorious muscle looked like naked had her body tingling in interesting places.

It was too bad she was on the job, otherwise she probably would have put her seduction skills to good use, but it was just as well he was gone now. Her boss would consider him a distraction, and she could remember quite vividly what had happened the last time she’d allowed herself to become distracted.

She would rather not have a repeat performance of that particular moment in time, thankyouverymuch.

Shaking her head, Kagome huffed and continued her search. Well? she prodded after his emotional grid had been silent for several minutes. She trailed a finger down the slender column of her neck, meant to entice her target as a provocative smile curled her lips. Come to me and we can—

A hand, much larger than her own and tipped with deadly looking claws circled the back of her throat and Kagome’s thoughts came to a screeching halt, her eyes going wide as a gasp whispered past her lips. She tensed, waiting for the inevitable crushing of her windpipe, cursing herself because there was only one person who that hand could possibly belong to.

“Tell me, mia piccola fenice,” a male voice growled in her ear and Kagome shivered as hot breath washed over her neck even as her eyes went wide at his chosen nickname. “How did you know? I find I’m rather curious.” He was so close his chest against her back and she hated herself for wondering how it would feel to have him pressed flush against her. He chuckled and her face flamed.

Get out, asshole. “Know?” she said aloud, feigning ignorance, though she should have known better.

He tsked. “Don’t play coy,” he rumbled and gave a subtle flex of his fingers around her throat, however he didn’t squeeze. “I’m giving you the rare chance to tell me instead of just finding out the easy way. Don’t make me regret that decision.” Talons dragged across her flesh and Kagome bit her lip to stifle any traitorous sounds from escaping.

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth since it would be entirely foolish if she refused, Kagome slowly relaxed once she realized he wasn’t going to squeeze her throat and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her racing heart, although his breath on her neck was very distracting—

He chuckled again and Kagome mentally screamed, as much as in frustration as to force him out of her private thoughts. Goddammit!

Clearing her throat, her face red as she glared mulishly ahead of her, Kagome tried very hard to ignore the warmth of his hand as she gathered her thoughts. How did one explain what came naturally to them?

“Normal humans are very easy to read,” she began, her voice soft in case of eavesdroppers. “Their emotional grids are very loud and open, unguarded without fear of manipulation because our existence are just myths to them, stories to tell late at night, or whatever. Why should they feel the need to protect themselves against a mental assault, right? It doesn’t take much for me to get a lock on and, well...” She shrugged and he grunted in understanding. “So when I enter a place like a bar, the typical feelings I expect are lust, joy, and a general sense of carelessness.”

Inuyasha considered that and nodded; that’s basically what his nose told him as well so it made sense. It didn’t answer his question, though, so he gestured for her to go on with a wave of his hand.

Impatient, she inwardly snorted and he smirked, but let it go. She sighed, and she sounded a bit piqued as she continued, “You guys, on the other hand, are similar but have one notable difference. Your grids are more subdued. Um...muted, so to speak. You’re privy to the existence of humans such as myself, or even other creatures seeking to destroy, so therefore it’s an unconscious habit for you to mentally guard yourself against anything that might manage to sneak past your defenses, thus your emotions aren’t as loud or open. It’s like...” She paused, wrinkling her nose as she tried to come up with an accurate description. “It’s like your grid is masked, or concealed behind a mesh wall. I can feel them to an extent as little wisps escape through the holes, but unless I’m focused solely on you, I’m unable to get an accurate read.”

Inuyasha absorbed all of that with a contemplative frown, turning her words over in his head, and he didn’t truly understand what she meant until she finished with, not without an eye roll, “So in other words, your presence is an annoying smudge on my otherwise crystal clear and perfect landscape of emotions and it’s instinct to investigate it until I find the source. Happy now, Dracula?”

Inuyasha snorted and couldn’t help but retort back with, “You know Dracula’s not the original name.”

“You’re all the same to me,” was her snappish reply and, goddamn, he loved her sass. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a woman’s company so much when he wasn’t fucking her against the nearest hard surface?

“Yeah, see,” he drawled and something in his voice had Kagome’s brow puckering in puzzlement. “About that. We actually ain’t all the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“For starters,” he said, his tone blasé, “my diet doesn’t include a weekly dose of O positive.”

Completely confused now, because every vampire required blood at least once a week to survive, Kagome jerked herself out of his hold and he let her, his hand falling away. She took a few steps before whirring around to face him, expecting soulless black eyes, a pale complexion, and mouth spread into a lethal fang-bearing grin.

She hit one out of three and though it should have made her feel marginally better, the look he was giving her suggested she was still very much in danger.

*Mia piccola fenice - my little phoenix 

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